magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

I got home at 4 o'clock this morning. Fortunately, I had decided even before I left the office yesterday that I wasn't going to be in before lunchtime today. I was up by about 10, when I could no longer stand the complete lack of moisture in my head. (I don't drink nearly enough water under normal circumstances, and the last few days have involved a good deal of dehydrating factors. Mostly a lot of alcohol.)

Bret and I went out in search of lunch. First to an Indian restaurant in Washington Heights, that should have been open according to their hours sign, but showed no indication that they would be any time soon. And then south on Broadway, eventually all the way down to 98th Street and Cafe Viva for vegan pizza.

And into work were I finally started in on the project that I was supposed to have the info to begin at the end of last week.

---

Email today from Stef about my stuff. Cordial. Hope all is well. Wouldn't having your stuff make your new apartment more comfortable. That sort of thing. I haven't said anything to anyone, but she's been on my mind again the last few weeks. No idea why, except maybe spring.